drowning in toxins
by tatty ted
Summary: Helen attempts suicide only to be saved by an unlikely source. - —Helen/Gary.


**notes** — set after episode one of _series one._

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**drowning in toxins**  
_you're drowning in the water._

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She never thought it would be so — lonely, being Governor.

She hated her job, no scrap that, she detested her job. She wished she could turn back time and turn down the position of being Governor of Barfield Prison. It wasn't the prison itself, it was everything about her job.

The hours for one. The lack of support from her male counterparts, not to mention, the way it made her feel.

She'd worked in a female prison, working with some of the toughest female prisoners yet that was nothing compared to the men at Barfield. She'd never felt fear as much as she had everytime she dealt with a prisoner.

She'd never been so scared. Scared for her as a woman being the only female in a man's world so to speak.

She can't do it. She can't be Governor anymore but she can't quit. If she quits, they'll all laugh, they'll all know she was out of her depth. She studies the bottle of vodka on her desk and wonders how the fuck she gets herself out of a situation like this.

She can't. She can't just sit them down and say, "I quit, I'm leaving this shithole."

She's gonna have to do something bloody marvolous to get out of the position of Governor.

Maybe she was never cut out for it. She always had good plans and ambitions especially after her divorce when her twat for a husband didn't put her down anymore. Barfield was going to be a good prison, a drug-free prison. That's what she inspired for that place, inspired for it to be something other than it's drug use.

She knows it was stupid, she's female for crying out loud. How the fuck can a female do that?

She hasn't slept in three days, maybe four? It's all stress related, she doesn't sleep, she doesn't eat. All she ever feels like doing is sleeping for a thousand fucking years and never waking up. It's a fucking curse being Governor, she thinks as she reaches for the vodka bottle.

She unscrews the lid and necks the liquid.

It burns her throat, makes her gag and cough but she knows it'll work. It's alcohol and alcohol always takes the edge of things. She takes a sleeping pill, perscriped by her oh-so-smart doctor, just the one and stares at the rest in the orange container.

It wouldn't hurt would it, to take them all and sleep?

If she's completely honest, she doesn't remember taking the rest of the pills or vodka. She knows she must have done because everything feels different. There's a feeling washing over her, a feeling of calm and warmth.

She rests her head on the desk, her eyelids falling. She wants sleep to overcome her, she doesn't ever want to wake up.

"Helen?" She hears a familar voice but she can't answer. Sleep, she must sleep. She needs to sleep. She can't explain how she feels, she just feels different. Like this was meant to be, she was meant to overdose on the tablets to sleep.

"Helen? Shit."

She's asleep. Her breathing's soft like a baby's and he has to check, just to make sure she's breathing. It's by chance he finds her. He heard the vodka bottle roll off the edge of the table and smash on the floor.

He just didn't expect to find the Governor comatosed at her desk.

He should've expected it really. He should've seen the signs and listened to his gut instinct. It was coming, this — cry for help. She's thrown out of her depth at the likes of Barfield, full of scum and shitbags. They're probably the worst she's had to deal with, no wonder she couldn't do it.

He feels harsh for all the shit he'd thrown her way. The bets with the guys, the chatting shit behind her back. _("she'll never cope, she'll never last long, she's a fucking woman_.")

He stays with her at the hospital because personally, it's the least he can do for her. He's the deputy and because he didn't do is job right because he was too pissed off that a woman, a woman fucking stole what could've been his job.

He hates the hospital chairs, they're always the same, plastic and uncomfortable. He gets up every hour to get a cup of tea from the machine which tastes like shit in his eyes but it's the best he's gonna get at this time of night.

"What happened?" She asks just as he's about to fall asleep.

"You—" He stops when she looks at him. It's like she fills in the gaps, she remembers being in her office with the vodka and the pills and taking the whole lot. She looks away embarrassed especially because its her deputy and now he really is gonna think she's a fucking woman.

"Don't you dare ever mention this to anyone, okay?"

He agrees. It's an unspoken promise never to discuss the events of that night. How she tried her hardest to commit suicide and how he happened to find her. She thinks it's the events of that night that make him — them, quite close. They don't always see eye to eye but compared to what their relationship was like, it's a long stronger. He tends to have more faith in her decisions, she's young and yes, she's out of her depth but all she needs is support.

And he will, he'll support her and hopes she'll never repeat what she tried to do.

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**jottings** — if you like it enough to favourite, please leave a review:3


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